I’d better tell you about
invisible reasons restraining people.
Let me tell you: suffering gives rise to suffering.
It’s no too kind, but let us forget for a while
about the kindness. I did forget that ageing
would scarcely make us better.
Maybe you want me to tell you about coffee hills of oblivion?
Crushed stone of memory right away dropped to a canyon there.
It’s good that there were not any dreams. It’s bad that awoke
with harden abracadabra’s taste in the mouth.
Crumpled jacket with glued sleeves.
An evening square lit up on the inside.
Skip it.
We are all too sentimental here, and my
mind, as one Black remarked,
is really too rational.